where a human in distress
in a public place
could receive at least as much
attention as an off-leash
dog, or a tiny, sad,
furious African man
playing a trumpet
low & slow
in mourning
in a public park
beside a statue
of Frank Ney, developer
mayor, in pirate drag.

A chance for change
really only ever visible
afterwards, as loss.

Columbia Studio B,
19 June 1974, where no
orchestra played, & yet
is clearly heard
in the recording,
in the echoing space
above Miles' trumpet
& Harmon mute, as if
love for absent Duke
could coax him back,
or some semblance
of him back, like Spicer's
spook radio voices--
- posted by cjb @ 9:56 PM